


Welcome Home, Sister

by MoodyMuddy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8454685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyMuddy/pseuds/MoodyMuddy
Summary: Day of the Dead inspired





	

Gasping in a breath as she opened her eyes Hermione felt a panic rising inside her as she failed to recognize where she was. Trying to move her legs and to sit up all she could do was whimper when she realised all she could do was move her head and her fingers. Lifting her head she groaned at the flashing lights going off like fireworks behind her eyes and closed the again, stilling her movements as tried to regain her equilibrium and convince herself she was not riding a muggle merry go round. Trying again after a few moments she slowly cracked open her eyes only to stare at the room she was in. It wasn’t her room with her familiar things and her cat on her bed. This room was festooned with flowers. Flowers of all shapes and size and colours, the scents mingling and making the air thick with a floral perfume that made her sick to her stomach. Ordinarily she liked flowers and bought fresh bunches every week to brighten her home but there was too many of these ones. It was as she tried to shift her position again that she realised she was sitting in a chair with the cold feel of metal shackles biting into her soft skin. 

 

Dimly she could remember yesterday.. Or was it yesterday? How long had she been out? Whimpering softly she whimpered again, she was so confused and couldn’t work anything out. A feeling that didn’t sit well with her. She was Hermione Granger and always knew everything. All she could remember was arriving at Malfoy Manor for dinner with Narcissa. It had gone well she recalled now, they had discovered a mutual love for reading and had spent time discussing their favourite books, then she had lifted her glass of wine and taken a slighter bigger swallow then se’d intended. Then her mind was blank after that. 

What had happened to her?

Hearing the sound of footsteps against marble Hermione tilted her head again and closed her eyes pretending to be asleep, not yet wanting her captor to realise she was conscious. She needed to figure out where she was and what had happened to her. 

 

 

“Miss Granger..”, the modulated tones of her boss sounded from behind making her jump and spill her skinny latte down the front of the shirt she was wearing. Swivelling her chair around to face him she pasted on a pleasant smile while she grabbed for a tissue from the box to daub ineffectively at the stain on her shirt. “Miss Granger, sorry to ask you to take an extra case, especially who it is, but Longbottom is sick and Mrs Malfoy is already overdue for her monthly check in with our aura office”. In his hands he held the plain brown manila folder that bared the name Narcissa Malfoy. 

 

She didn’t mind the extra work, but surely it could be anyone other than that woman? Already she could feel her heart thudding in her chest as she remembered the last time she had seen Narcissa Malfoy. It had been the night she was tortured at Malfoy Manor then again for a moment or two outside Hogwarts before that last battle had erupted. Even then at that battle, she was suffering with memories having been triggered by seeing both Narcissa and her sister. If given the choice she would rather not spend even a minute with the older witch, instead though she gritted her teeth and pasted a polite smile on her face. Not that she wasn’t compassionate for Mrs Malfoy. Far from it. She knew from conversations with Neville that the blonde was alone now; both her husband and her son were in Azkaban where all death eaters had been sent, her sister was dead and her other sister she didn’t think had tried to contact Mrs Malfoy. Narcissa herself, she knew, was not in Azkaban because not only had she never taken the mark but she had saved Harry’s life, prompting him to speak for her during the trial. It was why the older witch had to have monthly check ins with the ministry, so that they could keep an eye on her without her being thrown in prison. Her memories from that night at Malfoy manor though, they filled her with dread and had iron bands forming around her lungs stopping her from breathing as hse started to sweat. It wasn’t just seeing Mrs Malfoy or hearing of her, it was anything associated with that night. Even a smell could sometimes trigger her memories. PTSD the healer at St Mungo’s had told her when she had eventually gone to talk of her nightmares and inability to sleep among other things. It hadn’t helped having to see that word cut into her arm, that was always setting off her memories so that now she wore a permanent bandage over that scar to stop from seeing it. 

 

Hearing a knock on her office door just as she had finished using her wand to clean her coffee stained shirt Hermione whirled around in her chair to greet her visitor only to find the icy hands of terror clutching at her, making her throat close up and her skin to grow clammy. Narcissa Malfoy. Trying to hide her reaction Hermione swallowed and held out a tentative hand, though the smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes. Damn Shacklebolt! He would owe her for this she thought to herself. All through the regular check-in Narcissa had to have Hermione was working on auto pilot, trying to distance herself while still doing her job. It was how she found herself blindly accepting a dinner invitation to Malfoy manor. 

 

How did that happen she wondered, then tried to breathe through the rising panic as it really hit her where she would be. Could she send an owl and say she had been taken sick? No, she was trying to face what had happened and move past it. It was why she had found herself dressed in a little black dress and arriving at the manor for dinner. Only just managing to keep her reaction under control Hermione found herself talking about literature until she had lifted her glass of wine and swallowed a little more than she’d meant to, hoping that it would help to take the edge of her evening. 

 

 

Opening her eyes again when her memory did not improve she found she was still tied to a chair surrounded by a multitude of blooms. She had hoped it was a nightmare, one f the many she had regularly, but kicking herself in the shin she realised at the blossoming pain that this was real. Looking around the room properly now she noticed things she hadn’t seen the first time; a long table groaning under the weight of many different platters each containing some sweet food offering from chocolate to marshmallows, cakes to ice cream. What really concerned her though was the number of pictures of Bellatrix scattered throughout the room. Some were of a child and some of her life before meeting her end at Hogwarts. One thing was certain though, Bellatrix was troubled. She could see that as the girl grew up into womanhood, the girl in the pictures was not happy at all. Averting her gaze from the pictures Hermione felt her chest constricting and her lungs fail to work while her stomach threatened to let her lunch reappear. Her body felt like she was on fire and her skin was so clammy from the sweat she could feel herself slipping a little in her chair. 

 

Bellatrix.. The woman was gone yet still she wasn’t free from her. With tears streaming down her face forming little rivulets over her pale cheeks Hermione’s thoughts turned inward reliving it all over again; the insults, that cold hard wooden floor beneath her, the degradation, the humiliation and more than that the sheer terror then the pain moving through her as if a firework had exploded inside of her. She could even remember that scent of the woman, dragons blood incense mixed with black orchids, the feel of the woman’s hair as it tickled her while she carved that word into her arm, the feel of that woman’s knees either side of her hips and she could remember those beautiful blue eyes staring into hers as she was asked for information she knew nothing about. She remembered at the time wondering how could anyone so beautiful be so evil?

 

Jumping to alertness again as the clipping sound of high heels against marble rung out, reaching her ears Hermione realised she was screaming, screaming like she had been that night she had been tortured. Casting a silencing spell on Hermione the tall and elegant, model like Narcissa Malfoy shot the girl a look of distaste, “Day of the Dead celebrations are just that, a celebration. It is to honour those who have passed, to take joy in the life they had to let them know they are loved and missed still. Your screaming is disrespectful to say the least! What a way to welcome home my sister!”

 

Welcome home her sister? As far as she knew Andromeda had not contacted Narcissa and Bellatrix was dead.. It was then that she realised what the blonde witch was thinking of. Bellatrix Lestrange returning on Day of the Dead. It was why their were so many pictures of that witch around the room. Narcissa was building an altar for her sister. Fear coursed through her veins again turning her blood to ice as she fought for breath, her gaze confirming her thoughts as she saw a house elf carry in both of Bellatrix’s dagger and wand and a second elf behind him carrying a sugar skull. One that was obviously personalised with the most brilliant enticing colours and patterns. 

 

Watching Hermione as the girl worked out what was going on Narcissa smirked and walked over to her dropping the spell “make a sound and I will have your tongue removed then fed to my sister’s dog”. During this ‘stay’ at the manor Hermione had neither washed nor brushed her teeth much less been able to change her clothes. Clicking her fingers Narcissa had her sister’s old house elf step forwards and ring her hands together, “get this girl cleaned and suitably attired to meet my sister. She is the main offering to her and it wouldn’t do for the girl to be unwashed or dressed wrongly”. Shaking with fear Hermione heeded the warning and didn’t make a sound, though when the elf took her to one of the bathrooms she could barely take a breath and there was unadulterated fear in her normally warm eyes. 

 

The elf, Pinky, spent hours with the girl washing her and curling her hair, making sure that all body hair was removed as well. When the girl was being dried off in front of a dressing table the little elf spent her time threading flowers into her hair and then helping the mudblood girl to dress in a simple white gown. The whole time the girl elf said not a word but she did not treat Hermione roughly. Far from it, she was gentle and kind and Hermione was able to almost relax for a little while at the kindness shown to her. She did however take away Hermione’s wand that she had found secreted in the witch’s sleeve. Later on when she was escorted back to the room of flowers as she thought of it Hermione saw Narcissa wearing a long emerald green dress made of silk and accessorised by silver jewellery standing beside a mannequin dressed in one of her sister's black corset dresses. Not a word was spoken by the blonde witch as she watched the elf chain the girl to the chair again before using her wand to add magical bindings to those already there. 

 

“Not long now, Granger. The children are allowed back first then from midnight on November 2nd the adults can return. It is eleven thirty now”, another smirk was directed at Hermione as Narcissa chose a high backed chair near to the fire then lit it, though she didn’t ask if the other witch was cold or not. Sitting back to wait Narcissa folded her hands demurely into her lap, though she was not really demure on the inside. Ever since birth her mother had taught her to never ehow emotion, to always be thin, to never speak unless spoken too, to never have a political opinion. Hermione though could tell the older witch was nervous by the way her body was held stiffly and the blue eyed gaze that kept sweeping the room as if to check everything was in place. For Hermione the wait now was interminable.

 

That was until her roving gaze settled on the sugar skull and she took in the patterns that decorated it, not noticing for awhile that now the eye sockets were filled with those blue eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange.. And they were staring straight at her. Almost screaming in fright Hermione remembered almost too late the threat Narcissa had made and the scream died in her throat. She wasn’ sure what she had been expecting, a cla of thunder perhaps or strobing lights, or maybe even the dark mark to hover in the air. It was anti climatic how Bellatrix did return. It had been a relief to see the witch killed by Molly but now seeing her back again had sheer terror filling Hermione, making it so that she couldn’t take a breath, her chest hurt, her skin was clammy. For once Hermione wished that Bellatrix had killed her that night. 

 

A voice spoke from near the fire then, “Welcome Home, Sister”. It was Narcissa, but suddenly the blonde was in tears as she held the brunette close to her, murmuring to her and explaining what had happened. Hermione was meanwhile trying to sink back into her chair until she found herself staring at the beautiful witch. And despite being dead she was beautiful Hermione realised, seeing her clearly now. As Hermione stared at her tormentor she could see how stunning she was with her lithe body showcased by her black lace corset dress over the top of her alabaster skin with her raven black curls tumbling down her back, topped with roses that were threaded into her hair in shades of red and black. But it was her face that was a true work of art. High cheekbones and rosebud lips set in the white colour of the bones of the sugar skull painted with bright colours worked into intricate patterns; emerald green, orange, yellow, purple and a turquoise blue. On her cheeks, chin and forehead were delicate tiny jewels in matching colours.  
But it was those eyes like glittering sapphires framed by the iridescent emerald green colour that really stood out. They were beautiful and so full of life.. And malice. 

Cackling that harsh laugh of hers Bellatrix stalked around the chair having a good look at Hermione, “I want a talk with this one, girl to girl”. Laughing at her own wit Bellatrix picked up her wand then her dagger and turned them over in her hands before putting them both back on the table and picking up one of the sweet treats and eating it, an expression of pleasure filling her eyes, “it has been too long since I have tasted these”. Helping herself to another one of the treats she looked over to her sister, her gaze lingering on the tall pale blonde while she drank in the beauty she had missed for so long now.

 

 

Tight pink buds pushed through the silk of Narcissa’s silk dress, her mouth parted a little as she stared hard at her sister, finding the sugar skull to be incredibly sexy on her sister, highlighting the beauty that had always been there. She hadn’t worn underwear, knowing Bella would appreciate her without any thing beneath the thin silk, silk that was her sister’s favourite colour. Taking in how the blonde was dressed and already flushed with arousal Bella glided across the room then shoved her sister against the wall, the younger one crying out as he back connected with the brick and mortar, their lips fusing into a kiss that got hotter and needier by their moment as their tongues twisted and dueled. For a moment the ice queen facade Narcissa habitually wore was in tatters and she didn’t care as her sister, her kitten, woke the fire within, making it blaze into an inferno in her belly, and pull from her lips soft enticing moans that only grew in tempo as the kiss heated all the more, her dark sister’s carnal moans and cries mixing with hers to fill the room with their own music. Their hands, one set soft and pale while the other were slightly tanned, pulled and ripped at clothing until two perfect female forms were exposed to the chill of the room; one tall and slim with milky skin and light pink rose coloured nipples that were surrounded by even lovelier areolas. While the other was lightly tanned and thin, with pert breasts topped by duskier pink nipples, her areolas only a shade darker. Both women had forgotten Hermione as they paused for a moment and let their gazes roam over each other taking in the milky skin of Narcissa pussy with it’s small barely there strip of light blonde hairs just above the glistening light pink lips of her sex and the other lightly tanned, her pussy bare and showing her already swollen light pink pussy lips, glinting softly from her own arousal. Bella moved first, pushing Narcissa against the wall, pulling one leg up and around her waist even as her fingers were grazing over that tight wet slit, teasing only her outer lips for a moment as she stared into the light blue eyes, “thank you my little dove for bringing me back”. Narcissa could barely speak as finally her sisters finger parted her swollen lips and pushed down on her clit before pushing back its hood to stroke over that sensitive spot right on the top, almost having her cumming right there and then. Not wanting to be left out Narcissa sunk her fingers between her sister’s legs, smirking as Bella shifted and parted her legs, rocking her hips into her sister's teasing touch before Narcissa too had parted those pink folds to stroke over her sister's clit, her fingers easily finding the sweet spot her sister loved best to one side of the swollen bud itself. “Please, kitten, I need you, inside”, Narcissa gasped between her moans, her cries growing louder as Bella sunk in two fingers inside, her inner muscles gripping her sister’s fingers and pulling them in deeper. For long moments the only sounds filling the air was the ragged sounds of breathing until finally both women stiffened and shook as their orgasms roared through them, pulling from Narcissa loud gasping cries of her sister's name while Bellatrix arched her back and screamed her pleasure into the room. Collapsing over the blonde Bellatrix found her hand resting against the wall behind them to keep herself upright as she took a moment to let her heart stop it's tap dance within her breast.

 

 

“Cissy I have come all this way, I wish to stay longer and have some fun. Have you got that old spellbook that was in the Black Family Library?”. Bellatrix asked as she was still fixing her corset into place. Narcissa was already dressed again in the remnants of her silk evening dress. Hermione was too terrified and sickened to even react to that. Forced to watch as Narcissa had fucked a corpse she had felt repulsion as the two sisters had fucked on the table. Incest and necrophilia. Although not a virgin Hermione was innocent enough that it had shocked her more than scared her. She didn't want to think about how wet her own underwear was from watching the sisters fucking. “Already on the altar and in the cauldron the potion is brewing, it just requires the last ingredients; the ashes of the one who killed you, blood of the enemy, some of your hair, some of my energy when casting and mandrake root for love. As she spoke the house elf her sister had been given as a child, Pinky, came in carrying a large container containing what looked like dust, “Pinky has the ashes miss, I is getting them as miss tells Pinky to.” Seeing the elf carrying in ashes and hearing who they had come from Hermione cried out, that's why one had heard of Molly for hours the day before. They’d been worried about her and had sent owls but there was no news of her. Hearing the cry Bellatrix cackled and Narcissa shot an irritated look at the girl. Twitching back a curtain behind her Narcissa showed the big bubbling cauldron as she lifted the container of ashes and poured them in closely followed by the mandrake root before stirring it together. 

 

Looking at the bushy haired mudblood now wearing the ministry’s badge Bellatrix laughed and shook her head, “that blood traitor should've thought before raising her wand to me!”. Seeing the badge for the first time her eyes gleamed as she stepped nearer and bent to look at it more, deliberately making her hair tickle Hermione, remembering from before how much this mudblood had screamed because of it. She wasn’t disappointed this time as Hermione did just that. Screaming as loud as she could. Standing upright again Bellatrix watched her with a smirk on her face, “screaming loud enough to wake the dead muddy..”. It was another quip as she turned back to the caudron and used her dagger to cut of some of her hair then let it fall into the potion. 

 

Turning next to Hermione she straddled the girl on the chair and thrust her face close to her, “hello muddy, have you missed me? Did you enjoy the show when i was fucking my sister”. Stealing a kiss as one hand moved to feel the girl's jeans she could only laugh at the terror on the girl’s face and the way she clearly wanted to spit away the kiss and move away from the fingers probing her, “not such an innocent little mudblood are you? Does that carrot head know how much you like girls?”. Cackling again and seizing one of Hermione’s arms she accio’d over a chalice and held it under Hermione’s arm as she again rebranded her as a mudblood, collecting all the drops of blood before they hit the floor. Emptying the chalice into the cauldron Bellatrix smiled as she before stepping into the cauldron with that ever present smirk on her face. Narcissa lost no time in grabbing the spellbook and saying the spell to bring back her lover and sister, “novis mortem reditum mea sororis”. 

Hermione was shaking with fear and pain, too numbed now to even scream anymore. Bellatrix was coming back properly. She had to stop her but how. Even Hermione’s quick thinking was not enough in this case though as before she could think of how to stop the spell she found the now living Bellatrix standing in front of her. “Cissy, my little pet is a boring pet”. Narcissa, looking drained from the loss of energy required for the spell, laughed and moved to wrap an am around Bellatrix, “she may be a boring little know it all my kitten, but imagine the fun you can have if you use this one as a spy. Imperio her then send her back to the order, find out the secrets from the golden girl as you rebuild your army, but this time with you as the dark lady”. Looking round at her sister Bellatrix smirked as she considered that then a foot into Hermione’s leg, “well, muddy, looks like you get to go home alive, but you had better not fail me”. Already Narcissa had passed her sister back her wand from where it had been on the table and Bellatrix lost no time in brandishing it towards Hermione and casting the imperio curse, making her have to not tell anyone about what had happened that night and to gather information about what the order was doing then report to Malfoy manor every week. 

 

This time the cause would not fail, and she would be the queen of the wizarding world.


End file.
